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the-dragons-knight · 5 years

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Prompt #25: Already Earned It

Entry number twenty five for the FFXIV Write Challenge by @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast.

Prompt: “Trust”

Rating: PG

Relations: Mentions of the building blocks of Aymeric X WoL(Katsum Almor)

Warnings: Heavensward Main MSQ content

They are foreigners in a city of knights at war. Why would Aymeric have any reason to trust them with this plan? He has no reason but he...

- - - - - - - - - -

How could he trust us? Why would he trust us?

Katsum watched Ser Aymeric as they entered the Lord Commander’s office, waiting to see his reaction when he saw them. She tried to gauge what he was thinking by his expressions, but his trained political mask was as fortified as her own. Just as he was when they first met in Coerthas, she couldn’t read him. Even now, she couldn't and it worried her. She could say one thing for sure though. Katsum knew there was no way he would trust them with this. Estinien maybe as he was his good friend, a trusted friend, but she and Alphinaud? Hardly.

She’d seen the looks of the temple knights as they had passed. Some were angry or annoyed, some were scared. Others, just like the knight that strode past with Ser Aymeric’s orders when they arrived, had just stared as they passed, watching the foreigners as they walked by. It was the same look that Lucia was trying to hide. They were runaways, hiding from someone who wanted them dead. A child who thought he could lead an army of diplomacy without need to fight for anything and just to keep the peace and a soldier just fighting to run from her past and not look back. No matter what good they had done in the past, who in their right mind would put their faith in them?

No one. No one would.

She watched as he looked up and saw the three of them standing there, and he...smiled, “Ah, ‘twould seem I have visitors - and unlike those massing beyond our walls, these ones are welcome.”

Katsum was astonished to see the warmth in his eyes, but surely that was meant for Estinien alone, not for her and Alphinaud too...but he had spoken of a group, not just one.

This confuses her, and she ponders over it as Alphinaud speaks, “Pray forgive us for interrupting you in the midst of your preparations, Ser Aymeric, but we have come because we believe there may be a chance the invasion might be halted before it can even begin.”

Aymeric’s eyebrows lifted and he crossed his arms in interest, “Oh?”

Alphinaud nods, “I can divulge little more at the moment, but I ask that you advise the Holy See to refrain from launching any preemptive counter attacks whilst we seek to put our plans in motion.”

Aymeric narrowed his eyes and sat up straight. Now he looked at Katsum would have guessed, so now she could start to worry, “I will gladly lend my support to any endeavor that could spare the blood of my countrymen - but I would know more of the cause you would have me champion first. Will you not share aught of this mysterious undertaking?”

“Know that I have offered them my lance to aid them, Ser Aymeric,” Estinien spoke plainly, drawing the Lord Commander’s attention, “I cannot claim that its success is assured, but its actions should serve to delay Nidhogg’s advances at the very least. Which is more than what can be said for the ill-conceived counterattack the See’s more vocal crusaders. They offer glorious death but little hope of victory.”

Aymeric nods, “Aye...their proposal does not inspire confidence. Our resources should rightly be spent shoring up the city’s defenses, not creating another burial ground for our soldiers.”

He looked down in thought, and something sparked in her heart to speak, and so she did, “As forward as it might seem, Ser Aymeric, I ask for your trust in this endeavor. As hard as that trust must be to give...I still feel I must ask you for it.” He looked up and met her gaze evenly as she continued, “You and yours have offered us sanctuary when you could have cast us out in the snow or even turned us over to the Crystal Braves. For such kindness, I would do all I can to repay it and the best that I have to offer is my strength. So again, I ask for your trust if you are willing to give it.”

Their gazes were locked for a moment, her icy blue eyes locking with his sapphire blue ones, trying to read what he was thinking. Then...then he smiled the warmest smile she believe that she had ever seen appears on his lips, “There is little reason to ask for it, Lady Almor, for as much as you have done for us already - even before we brought you into the city - my trust has already been won. Indeed, you have already earned it.”

He...he already trusted her? But he barely knew her. She was an outsider, a foreigner who had lent her strength maybe once or twice in the past. How could he trust her already with something like this? This could mean the fate of his people, his home, himself, but yet…

He trusts me…

Katsum felt her heart shutter in such a strange way that she froze, her eyes widening and showing the shocked expression she felt. What was that feeling? What did it mean? What had caused her heart to skip like that? She was not sure, and that worried her. The Miqo’te woman quickly hid her expression again behind its stoic nature and nodded.

Aymeric nods as a thinking expression covers his face, “Hmmm...The Azure Dragoon and the Warrior of Light, sullying forth together to face the dreaded wyrm, Nidhogg...” He crosses his arms and ponders for a moment, “The mere thought of it does much to dispel my misgivings I must admit. Go then - carry out your plan. I shall do what I can for you within the Holy See.”

All of them nod. As the three of them turn to leave, Katsum’s feet almost halt. She was still in awe of how he could trust her, still desperately wondering why he was able to trust her so. Her heart wished to stop and speak her most heartfelt thanks, for it had been so long since she felt such honor...and so undeserving and unworthy of it. Yet she did not act on the wanting of her heart. To do so would open the gates for an arrow to strike her heart again. It had done so before, and it would do so again. And it was terrifying to even think of it…

As they left his office, she spared a glance back, seeing Lucia turning to pick up another stack of papers for him, and then to be caught again in his sapphire gaze. He smiled at her and nodded, a trusting smile; an encouraging one. She would not let his trust go to waste. She would see this through to the end.

And maybe one day, far into the future...she would be able to tell him how much she appreciated his trust.

But that day was not today.

#FFxivWrite2019 #ffxiv writing #ffxiv writing challenge #katsum almor #aymeric de borel #alphinaud leveilleur #estinien wyrmblood #wol/aymeric de borel #aymeric x katsum #aymeric de borel x wol #aymeric de borel x katsum almor #going back to the beginning before they were courting and in love #being wanting to write these for a while as I’ve had the notes #otp

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egg-and-koji · 4 years

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“Gravity” A FFXIV Fanfic Ch 1

"Hear…”

Disorientation. The first sign something wasn't right. Doctor Daniella Ortega couldn’t remember the last few hours let alone the last few seconds. But that voice...

Daniella’s eyes fluttered open as it filled her mind. The sound soft and clear even over the near-deafening ringing in the doctor’s ears. Ringing followed by a throbbing trainwreck of a headache. Her body felt weak and sore, but not surprisingly not heavy. Not like she usually got after an exhausting mission. Instead, she felt lighter. Too light-weight; almost floating. Unless Lum decided to be an ass and switch on zero-g again.

She blinked a few times getting a better grasp of her surroundings and sucked back the scream in her lungs when she saw she was in fact floating. Except, this time it wasn't because the ship's gravity had been altered.

Daniella floated exposed and unprotected in open space.

Her hands shot up to cover her mouth and nose. Not that it would do much; by all accounts, she should have frozen to death the instant her body hit the space atmosphere. She had no suit on, only a medical uniform; white and light gray with the Elysium crest on her breast pocket. Thankfully, she had her BioTech wrist device. But even that offered no protection; a supercomputer, yes and a weapon-albeit a pathetic one, but nothing useful for her situation. Yet when she checked herself over, her fingers weren’t black with frostbite nor had her toes snapped off; they were still very much warm in her slip-on shoes.

Okay-okay, keep your shit together Ortega, she told herself, you're alive, for now. If she was still alive after those last few seconds, would breathing in this atmosphere kill her? In a blind leap of faith, Daniella took a slow inhale through her nose. Oxygen?

Her eyes followed the wisps of blue and green atmospheric gases dancing around starlight. Yellow and white distant stars littered every angle surrounding her. Was this a memory from a Paragon's past life? It’d be the only explanation for why it felt so empty. There were no planets, no ships, not even a warp gate.

Creator, she called out in her thoughts hoping to reach her deity through her BioTech. If this was a memory sent by them, what had she done to trigger it? She had no comm call or message that any of the other Paragons in her unit had one.

A sudden beam of light blinded her left peripheral. She raised her hand and turned towards it. Through the gaps between her fingers, she squinted to keep from being blinded by the light. As if it knew it was far too bright, the light dimmed allowing her to see more clearly. A massive star loomed in front of her. She choked on the gasp that escaped from her trembling lips. Her hand slumped down to her side. Is that… a Sun?

“Creator!?” she heard herself shout yet she hadn’t opened her mouth. Not an unusual occurrence, if this was a memory.

"Hear…feel…," the voice spoke again.

“Y-you’re not the Creator-who are you!?” Daniella demanded.

The ball of light bobbed; brightening and dimming with every movement almost as if it were a set of lungs filling and emptying with a steady breath. She watched it for a while. The only two objects in this time and space. It made no move to grow closer nor did it disappear from her. If anything, it beckoned her.

“Are you sentient?” she asked. This wasn’t a form her Creator used before and it didn’t match any of the known forms of the other Creators of her galaxy. Unless-

“Are you a Sentinel!?”

Daniella snarled as a wave of nauseating anger swirled in the pit of her belly. Had they captured her crew? Was this some new torture method they developed? If they knew she was a Paragon, this could be a method of breaking her for secrets. At best, the Sentinels might have only taken her and used the rest of the crew as ransom against the Federation.

An insulting thought. There was no point in hoping for an outcome she knew wouldn't happen. Sentinels were… inhuman. Maybe they decided to be merciful to the “lesser species” and killed the crew off quickly; they’d be of no use except as fodder for their war machines.

Except for Jordan…

Jordan they could use against her. Jordan they could bend and break.

Daniella wiped his name from her lips as quickly as he appeared in her thoughts. She wouldn’t give the Sentinels that pleasure.

Let them break me, I die as a Paragon!

Her throat stung as all the moisture disappeared. Her scalp pricked and tingled. Despite the flurry of rage building within her, she kept her breathing controlled. She braced herself as the light shined brighter and hovered closer to her.

From it came emotions that pierced and swelled in her heart. Her fear and anger vanished, replaced by understanding from the Creator. Patience and guidance from her parents. Order and justice from the Paragons. Friendship and protection from The ESE Orion. Love and acceptance from-

Daniella blinked back her tears and extended a trembling hand towards it. Her face dropped to the open space below her. Whatever the light was she wanted to be near it, but if she moved would she fall forever?

Consciously or not, she descended. The lapse of gravity slowed her fall. After a few seconds, her feet lightly touched a solid surface and after a heartbeat, she took a careful step forward. The light stayed in its position until just shy from her reach then it shot up behind her.

"Hear… feel… think…", it echoed.

"Where am I-why am I not on The Orion? Did something happen?" she asked in a daze as she turned. The light bobbed again, waiting for her to follow.

Behind her, a hiss cracked like an oxygen leak of a damaged cruiser. A dark mist coiled against the pure atmosphere. It grew larger then disappeared as a black-robed figure stepped out; their face covered by the shadow of their hood. Energy radiated from their body; dark and powerful magic, not unlike a Sentinel...

From the light came fear.

Daniella braced herself inhaling deeply to tap into her energy. Lines of dusky purple light streaked across her skin like electrical wiring. Her nervites were activating; a blessed technology from the Creator that marked her as a Paragon. Her people had no magic to counter the Sentinels’ natural abilities. This was her Creator's solution to their atrocities against mankind.

But it wouldn’t be enough. Her active nervites would barely hold up a barrier in her condition. The weapon from her BioTech was a decent backup though. Sure it was shorter than the standard combat blades, but it was better than nothing. Sentinel or not, she wasn’t about to go down without a fight.

Suddenly, light surrounded her feet. Colors swirled and danced like flames. The blaze engulfed her before she had a chance to scream.

Daniella’s body changed; heavier, sturdier. The familiar sound of metallic pieces clicking and snapping into place sent a wave of giddy violence down to her toes. When the flames died, she emerged fully dressed in an Exosuit; the nano-infused latex under armor hugged her body while the hybrid silicone-metallic plates protected her limbs and vital organs. The suit’s UI synced with the modules along her spine, recognizing them instantly; the sensors lining the under-suit and armor plating lit up with nervites. The sharing of nervite and nano-tech created a symbiotic relationship, allowing a Paragon abilities beyond their own capabilities.

With the rush of adrenaline and no small amount of cockiness, she tapped deep into her energy. As the dark figure charged up a hidden power, she flicked her left wrist, and with a sharp hum, the white plasma blade descended. Then the dark mage and the Paragon lunged for each other.

Daniella awoke with a hiss. Her throat cracked. Every inch of her body screamed. Sore. Heavy. She lifted her fists to her eyes and rubbed the pain away. Embarrassing memories of her time as a neophyte in training resurfaced as this pain mimicked lessons. Except back then she was thrashed by Elder Paragons for her lack of restraint. She let her arms flop back down against the hard surface she laid on. One arm, she noticed, felt considerably lighter than the other.

She raised her left wrist to find it naked. No Biotech. “Oh for Creator’s sake, Lum…”, she grumbled.

While all Zinorphs were naturally curious, her crewmate Lum took it to the most annoying level possible. She guessed he took it to play some shitty prank on her. Good luck, idiot. After the first few times of handing it over and believing he was innocently curious about it, she programmed some minor security measures to deter him from any future shenanigans. Ha, hope you enjoy the zap, water breather.

Alright, focus Ortega, she told herself then mentally ran through her condition.

Headache, nausea, stiffness, dehydration, fatigue… the list went on. Without the BioTech, she wouldn’t have an accurate diagnosis of her health. Well, the stiffness might be this crappy cot. Her fingers ran over the rough canvas. She grumbled internally, dreading the fact that their mission must have gotten them stranded on yet another planet with another group of aliens with no modern technology who’s village they were very likely going to have to save… again... for the third time-technically fourth, but she wasn’t part of the crew for the first time. Daniella breathed steadily through her nose. She continued mentally checking over her injuries.

Left leg… sore. Right leg-

“Shit!” She hissed as she tried to bend her leg up. The tent flap opened.

“Pray miss, you must needs rest,” a young human male said in strong accented Elysian. He tried to gently ease her back down.

“I must-what?”

“Your wounds have yet to heal and I fear the Wood Wailers wish to be off shortly.”

“Wood Wailer a local tribe? And why are you talking like that, you lose a bet or something?”

“The... Wood Wailers are the guardsmen, mistress… I-”

The poor kid looked as confused as the doctor felt. She sat up on her elbows and studied him over. Every sentient creature in the galaxy knew humans came from Elysium. The only reason they settled on other planets was for farming colonies or Federation bases.

Hm, he might be a Greenie, she thought.

Judging by his clothes, Daniella assumed the young man came from a poor farming family and volunteered at a base to earn some units. He wore a dust-covered linen shirt and vomit green slacks. Those might be actual vomit stains though. A pair of flimsy leather sandals wrapped around his feet but the straps exposed dirt-covered toes.

She, on the other hand, wore nothing more than the cotton-spandex shorts and tank top she always slept in. Which normally wouldn’t be an issue except that hers were caked in dried blood and dirt. Her exposed skin was covered in cuts and bruises. The bandages wrapped around her right leg looked like they hadn’t been changed in days. The fact that she was wrapped in bandages at all was alarming. Was this medical site in disarray? Not an issue for her, but she’d have to let her captain know if the supervising physician here needed to pull her from her crew for a few days. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s helped a med site and she didn’t mind; nothing brought her greater joy than medicine. Well, maybe the pride that beamed from the Creator when she did. Besides, it was part of her oath to ensure she left a planet having given every ounce of her medical prowess and aid too.

But to call this a Federation medical site was an insult. It took all of her mother’s patience and Creator’s wisdom to keep from chewing the poor kid out.

It was nothing more than a tent-not that the Federation didn’t use tents, they were much, much better. There was barely enough room for the two of them and her nose burned from whatever herbs the kid fiddled with. The tent had no floor. Straight dirt. Even the air was gross; thick and damp with mold. The pungent stench of mud burned her nostrils. Stains, dried blood most likely, streaked across one side of the tent canvas. A spread of junk covered bottles sat cluttered on top of a wooden crate near the opening of the tent. A clay bowl full of red cloudy water and dirty bandages sat on a worn side table by her feet.

That’s it. Nothing else.

“This clinic is disgusting, why wasn’t I placed in a Vite Chamber?” she asked.

“B-beg pardon?”

“A Vite Chamber-every med site has one. Where are the drones? Monitors? IVs?” Daniella questioned, the poor kid shaking his head at each word. “Seriously, there isn’t even a floor! Whoever’s in charge of this clinic isn’t keeping to code. Which base is this?”

“B-base? This is Camp Tranquil miss. There are no bases here-unless you mean the castra where you are from-well the Wood Wailers believe you to be Garlean on account of the vessel they pulled you from-but never have I ever witnessed an airship as they described...”

The young man stuttered and fumbled over his words; most of it gibberish. Fine then, she would have to find the supervising physician herself. But not being put in a chamber to replenish her nervite levels and heal, she had no choice but to tap into her nervite reserves to heal her injuries herself. The young man stumbled backward, eyes as wide as an owl as her tech sealed cuts and erased bruises within seconds. She unwrapped the bandage around her leg exposing a gnarly dark gash under her calf. Her muscle fibers stretched and fused back together as the nervites regenerate the tissue cells, then her skin sealed the wound leaving no scar behind.

Daniella swung her legs over the side of the cot. “Who’s your supervisor?”

“My what,” he stuttered, taking another step back.

Yep, definitely a Greenie.

She took a deep breath, mentally chanting the Creator’s wisdom and tried again, her voice soft. “Who is the doctor overseeing the clinic? You must have met him during the orientation.”

He shook his head again. She blinked and curled a brow.

“Okay… well, where’s the rest of my crew?”

“They said you were the only one the Wood Wailers found. They didn’t know how to enter the ship and you lay on the ground alone and unconscious.”

“My captain?” Her voice was barely a whisper. A sharp chill ran down her back. Daniella pinched the bridge of her nose then hopped off the cot. She wobbled for a second then and brushed past him out of the tent.

“No wait,” he called after her.

The “camp” was little more than a few tents and crates fenced in by short wooden railings. Off to one side of the camp stood a massive glowing crystal pylon with a large bronze ring and several metal embellishments. Wooden bridges split to other smaller land masses; one with a single watchtower.

No comm towers. No auto-turrets. This camp couldn't even fend off a mouse!

A very tall, armed guard marched up behind her and shouted, “Hold prisoner!”

“Prisoner?” Daniella whipped around to face the voice.

Her heart froze as her eyes traveled up, taking in dark leather armor wrapped around a terrifying height. His face was covered by a mask of the same material; the eye slits too dark to see his irises. Her wide-eyed stare settled on his very long and pointed ears.

“SENTINEL!”

On instinct, her nervites activated. With a growl, Daniella threw out her hands and pushed at the gravity around the Sentinel, flinging him backward and crashing against the fence. More Sentinels charged at her. She pushed and pulled in every direction. Some went straight up into the air and landed with an audible crunch. She lunged for a spear one dropped.

“No stop!” shrieked the young man.

She snapped her wild scowl to him. He cowered with a few other humans under a collapsing awning. The Paragon placed herself between them and the Sentinels who circled and crept closer.

“Get the Void out of here!” she barked over her shoulder. Slow steps crunched the ground behind her.

Like a cobra, she whipped around bringing the spear high over her head. A boy in a white robe with horns sticking out of his head raised his hand to her face.

“Sleep,” he whispered. Smoky purple light emerged from his palm and circled her head.

“The fu-,” Daniella gasped then collapsed to the ground.

At a Federal Intergalactic Station, soldiers filled up an assembly hall for the command's debriefing. Species from across the Federation mixed and mingled with different crews as they awaited for the hologram to appear. Humans and humanoids settled into their seats or stood when all the seats were taken as a large hologram displayed the Elysian vice-admiral in the center of the room. He was an older gentleman with a sterned wrinkled face and broad features. Rows of lapels and medals lined the majority of his right shoulder pad. After a few formalities, the veteran addressed the current on-going issue.

“Recent reports from the Tressith suggest the Sentinels have made greater progress on the Starkiller project, allowing for an increase in the trajectory of the weapon's photon missiles,” the hologram spoke, “Working with Federation intelligence, our allies believe it’s only a matter of time before the weapon will reach its full potential. The Sentinels have already begun their tests, destroying two Tressith colonies in the process. The Federation has sent out orders for immediate evacuations of all colonies at the edge of the Delta Hyperion Galaxy.”

Doctor Daniella Ortega sat with the rest of her crew, chewing on the inside of her lip. Her eyes avoided looking directly at the hologram. Instead, they were focused on The Orion’s commander; the young Captain Hoshino. He was a valiant Elysian officer with several great feats on his record, but the majority of Federation command often overlooked him and his crew.

That is, only the Elysian vice-admiral did.

Captain Hoshino's hands balled on his knees; the muscles of his strong jaw twitched as he listened to the vice-admiral continue. Daniella glanced at his tense gaze. His face was hard as he shot up at attention when the hologram called for the captains.

“The Tressith have requested additional aid in relocating their colony populations,” the hologram continued, “Captain Hoshino, the Orion will not be needed for this mission. Return to your previous assignment.”

“Sir, with all due respect The Orion has had more dealings with the Tressith than any other Federation ship,” the young captain protested.

Jordan, don’t, Daniella cautioned in her thoughts.

“And the Federation is grateful for the opportunities your crew has presented to us in working with them. However, they requested aid for the evacuation of which The Orion is ill-equipped to handle.”

“Sir-”

“Captain!,” the hologram boomed, “You and your crew will return to the previous assignment, is that clear?”

Captain Hoshino’s face turned to stone. He saluted then turned out of the assembly hall, the rest of his crew following. Daniella trailed behind them as the captain took wide, heavy steps through the halls towards the docking bay. His knuckles turned white as he held them tightly behind his back; tense even when talking to his co-pilot.

This was the third time Jordan had spoken out about taking on a new mission. Their crew was stuck with patrol missions around the colony sectors; not the grand expeditions they dealt with in the past.

Why didn’t you stay quiet, she sighed internally, why do you always have to look for trouble huh?

“Well that was disappointing,” a crewmate asked from her side. The Zinorph’s dual-tone voice bubbled as the water device around their neck rubbed against their vocal cords. Their mandibles clicked as they chuckled, “I expected a poorly scripted human drama!”

“I’m the doctor, it’s not my place to argue military policy,” she said dryly.

“Oh, just the doctor huh? Sure, let’s completely overlook the years of training you went through to become an absolute Sentinel killing machine.”

Daniella bit her bottom lip to keep the smirk there from getting any bigger. “Paragons don’t brag about their achievements. We protect Elysium and the Federation, nothing more.”

“Eh, still, what’s the point of having the title if you can’t toss it around now and then. It’d be the first time I’d see the vice-admiral outgunned.”

“Humility, honor, and sacrifice.” Her heart swelled with pride to say the tenets out loud. The two turned down a few corridors and finally entered the docking bay where their ship awaited. “Besides, I’m sure the vice-admiral had his reasons.”

The Zinorph hummed, “Like the fact that the captain is sleeping with his daughter?” They cackled again.

Daniella flinched and huffed. “We aren’t… together right now.”

“If you say so,” they said, “but I did hear the strangest sounds a few nights ago near med bay. Could’ve sworn I heard a struggle. Thought we were being boarded, didn’t think some of us were-”

“You’re an ass, Lum.”

“But you love me!”

“Not enough to not make a chowder out of you,” she half grumbled, “don’t make me flush your eggs into space.”

“Do it! I don’t want the little shits, my partner got rid of fifty the other day!”

“That’s awful!”

Lum laughed harder, their mandibles clicking playfully as they and the doctor followed the rest of their crew up The Orion’s boarding ramp. The captain remained stoic as the ship left the station.

“Do you need anything from me, Captain?” Daniella asked once it was safe to freely move around the ship.

He didn’t turn to face her. “No.”

Her breath hitched to the sound of his clipped tone. She knew better than to push him; best leave it to his co-pilot or Lum. Daniella saluted his back and turned to the med bay, avoiding Lum’s slow worried clicks as she passed his navigation post.

That night the captain didn’t join the crew for dinner. Lum tried to probe her for information, but she didn’t say a word. She slipped the empty aluminum tray into its clean up compartment then went for a shower in her suite. The hot water only encouraged her troubled thoughts, so she rushed and changed into her sleep clothes.

Daniella knew if she went to bed now, she’d toss and turn and end up getting minimal sleep. Checking her messages might clear her mind. She sat down at an empty desk near her bed and tapped the dark glass at the center. A transparent holographic screen appeared. Her fingers gracefully swiped through messages: some from her Paragon comrades, a few from Lum-a recent one she ignored-and several from other command fleets offering her a spot on their medical teams. She spent a few hours reading them over.

Guilt, shame, and unease filled her heart.

She had been planning to transfer to another fleet for a few months now. A decision encouraged by her father who even sent his own letters of recommendation to the best fleets in the galaxy. It only made her feel worse. Having fleets compete for her, a Paragon, to join their ship was an honor and flattering; every fleet was better off with one and she had dedicated her life to the order. But having her father use her status along his rank was infuriating.

Him doing so because he wanted her and Jordan separated crushed her soul. And it wasn’t because of their differences in rank; if anything she outranked them all as a Paragon. No... it was only because it was Jordan.

He was there for me when you weren't, she spat internally, go ask the Creator; they’re the witness, they know everything!

She paused and sucked back her anger. There was no point in working herself up, the Creator would be alarmed. She mentally recited her Paragon vows but even that wasn’t enough to calm her. She buried her face in her hands wanting to drown in a scream when a knock on the metal door reeled her in. Swallowing the lump in her throat she said, “Come in.”

Heavy boots clicked against the floor panels as the door slid open then closed. Daniella swiveled in her chair. Jordan stood at the door dressed in Federation tactical pants and plain sleeveless undershirt; his thick ivory shoulders almost translucent against the dark gray material. Except for his artificial arm. The latest in technological advancement; fully formed with all functions; made from light-weight titanium alloy and nano-infused silicone. It was completely indestructible.

And he hated it.

His cold hard stare lingered on the reddened flesh of his shoulder where machine attached to man. He shut his eyes and let out an exhausted breath.

“The old man still hates me,” he muttered, his smooth voice pained, echoing a similar ache in Daniella’s heart.

His lips pursed into a thin line as he stayed at the door. He ran a fleshy hand through the ebony locks of hair against his forehead. The neat sweep he always kept for formal dress twisted through his long pale fingers. His dark brows furrowed into a deep V as he leaned his metal arm on the doorframe

“He’s just worried,” her voice soft as her eyes traced the lines and joints of the prosthesis.

She pulled her eyes away quickly and turned back to the desk.

He could despise the arm all he wanted, she thought, he was alive because of it, damnit!

She swallowed hard and swiped one of the screens over to her BioTech then turned to him again. With her left palm up, she touched the space in front of her and opened a smaller screen.

“These are… some of the recommendations for the Federation fleets. There’s a few from Lum’s tribe and even one from Paragon Kovalchuk-weird to hear from him, he might just want a chance for a rematch though.” She let out a breathy chuckle. He ignored her; both hands-flesh and artificial-wrung together.

Only the low hum of the ship’s engine filled the silence between them.

Minutes felt like centuries. He kept his eyes on the floor.

“I’m sure this isn’t the best time, but you did say to keep you informed on any updates on my transferring”-she cleared her throat-“I’d like it to be an official transfer so I’ll need your signature once I make my decision.”

His face twisted as his words came out in a broken whisper, “You can decide to stay.”

“We both agreed this was for the best,” she said, keeping her voice neutral, “as long as I’m here you can’t advance in rank, and now The Orion’s being held back too. How is that fair to anyone?”

His eyes snapped up to hers; icy blues on golden brown. “We don’t need to advance-we're fine as we are!”

“You can’t honestly tell me you're okay with doing grunt work for the next few years? The crew needs work. You belong on the field-

“And you belong with us!”

He reached out to grab the end of the doorframe with his prosthetic. The frame bent against the strength of it. He cursed and fumbled trying to bend it back to normal. More dents and bruises formed as the stronger metal fingers molded the frame like clay. His lip curled into an embarrassed frown. How many times had he flustered himself by accidentally breaking things with his new strength?

Enough to make the smooth, suave Jordan Hoshino self-conscious apparently, her conscious answered.

A few minutes of metallic scratching and grumbled swearing passed.

Daniella chewed on her lip to keep from giggling, but a wisp escaped the corner of her mouth. “Leave it, Klax’ii can fix it later.”

She stepped over to him and cupped his face in her hands, warm honey on ivory, and gazed deeply into his eyes. There was the man she promised her heart to; the friend who healed her scars; the one she bound her soul too. He ducked his gaze.

“We can reevaluate the Orion, take on more recruits-if he’s afraid of you being out on the field-”

“You know that’s not why.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Then… I’ll retire.”

That again, she thought.

Daniella rocked her head ‘no’ and took his prosthetic hand in hers; her skin warm against the sleek cold metal. He reached with his other hand to cup her cheek. She softly brushed it away, bringing up the one she held to caress her skin. He opened his mouth to protest but sucked in a gulp when she tapped into her nervites-increasing the stimulation of his hand’s sensors-and kissed every hinge and joint of his knuckles.

“Just... stay, Dani-” He choked back a gasp as she kissed the synthetic muscles of his palm.

Her kiss was a silent plea. 'Not tonight please.' More stimulation from her nervites. 'I love you. Please trust me.'

Jordan gripped her waist with his ‘safe hand’, thumb slipping under her shirt to lightly brush against her skin, sending a wave of heat up her spine. She looked up at him through her dark lashes. Her soft amber eyes meeting wild, smoldering blues.

“Jordan-”

His mouth was hers hard and desperate, the roughness of his lips sending her thoughts swirling. Lips parted. Tongues met and withdrew, allowing for sighs to be consumed. In a quick pivot, he flattened her back to the plated wall near the door. The frigid metal sending a shiver through her body.

Her tongue traced his bottom lip. A hint of bourbon lingered. That explained his lack of argumentative vigor. The doorframe cried again under his grip. The sound of his heavy breathing and metal whining against metal all because of her tongue filled her with brazen want. Hungry, she clawed for the artificial hand.

“No,” he breathed. His other hand pinned hers to the back of his neck. Her fingers twisted the longer strands of jet black hair.

It hurt how much she wished he wasn’t afraid to touch her with that hand.

They tried once-in the shower-getting so caught up in the moment Jordan bent the showerhead. Lum cackled like a maniac when Daniella told him the ridiculous story she had to make up to explain it to their repair technician.

Daniella shivered as Jordan wedged his thigh between hers. She stifled a moan against his neck as she pressed her weight on him. He nudged his nose across her temple, drawing her lips back to his, and let out a groan as her nail gently tugged his scalp.

The intercom near their heads buzzed. Lum’s voice breaking the wonderful haze. “Uh, Dr. Ortega would you mind sending ‘Paragon Ortega’ and the captain over to the control deck-thanks!”

They cussed. Daniella dropped her hands to his chest and buried her forehead in his shoulder. Her heart pounded in her ears. His racing heart thrummed under her palms. Jordan panted into her neck, lips still brushing her pulsing skin.

Daniella lifted her head off Jordan’s shoulder but moved no further away. Her eyes traced the flush of soft pink on his sculpted pale neck; his pulse quivering underneath.

Mindless, she tilted her chin up and sucked. A sharp hiss escaped his teeth. He reached down to cup her knee to hook it around his waist. She arched her back and pressed her head against the wall, a hand gripping his shoulder and the other to claw at his prosthesis still buried against the doorframe. His synthetic muscles coiled and trembled under her touch. Her nails scraped loudly against the protective plating as he licked and nipped her lips, across her lovely square jaw… down her neck. She writhed against him with every further dip.

The intercom buzzed again.

“Look I’m sure I’m not interrupting something that you both say is not going on... but it was either: reach you on the com or send the “lizard” and that wouldn’t have been fun for anybody soo-”

Jordan growled then cleared his throat. He reached over with his artificial hand using every ounce of restraint to not crush the talk button. “Understood Lum.”

Minutes passed with neither moving.

Jordan sighed as he dipped his chin back to Daniella. He touched his forehead to hers and kissed the tip of her nose. “Looks like you’re needed up there Paragon.”

Daniella licked her lips as her breathing slowly returned to normal speeds. Timid eyes flicked to the strain in his pants. And with a crooked grin, she said, “looks like I’m needed here too.”

He chuckled hoarsely-his cheeks a soft pink-then swallowed hard, kissed her damp forehead, and eased her leg down. His human hand stayed on her waist, the other he brought closer but kept on the wall, away from her. Metal on metal clicked as he shifted.

She cupped his face again, kissing cheeks, chin, nose. Everywhere. Yet, not enough.

He pulled away a bit, allowing themselves more space to breathe. Slow. Patient. With the willpower of the Creator, he traced the underside of her bottom lip with the silicon pad of his metallic thumb. A burning wave coursed through her, involuntarily causing her nervites to flare. For a few seconds, her mind went blank only feeling his touch.

Jordan shook his head and grinned victoriously; blue eyes, like cosmic waves, shimmered; the creases in the corners of his lids stretched down towards his high cheekbones. “Later,” he promised, “we’ll find time.”

There would never be enough time for moments like this. But every single one they cherished as if the very last.

Jordan stepped out to the hall while Daniella reached next to her desk for a pullover hoodie and slip-on shoes. The two joined the rest of the crew in the control room where a distress signal played over the comm system; the horn echoed off the metal paneled walls. A distorted message buzzed on repeat.

“Tressith merchant ship Captain,” Lum said, “coming from Jesic 9 station. No time stamp.”

“Run it through the VI,” Jordan told him.

Lum synced the message to The Orion’s translator and played it over the intercom.

“All stations… this is vessel Itik-khra… Jesic 9… compromised. Sentinel scout… warning… requesting Paragon interception…”

The crew turned to their Paragon; focused and steady masking the storm of anxiety building in her gut. A scout could potentially mean a warship and The Orion wasn’t meant for a full-on assault.

“None of the others have sent out a call,” her voice low, cautious, “did you send it to my Tech?”

The Zinorph nodded, their mandibles quivering.

“How fast can you get reinforcements?” Jordan asked.

“Not fast enough,” Paragon Ortega replied, her tone neutral, controlled. She barely glanced at the captain. “Wouldn’t matter either way. They already sent out their request.” One she was bound to respond to even when the rest of The Orion was not.

She felt Jordan’s eyes on her. She didn’t meet them. Not at that moment. ‘Dani’ needed to be buried for Paragon Ortega to appear.

She knew that. He knew that.

No order from him could override a call for a Paragon. Even attempting to stop her would have serious repercussions.

Her eyes finally flicked over to him, silently seeking a dismissal. Gone was the man she loved. Buried.

Captain Hoshino stood rigid, white knuckle fists on the hologram table. “To your station, Paragon.”

#fanfic #ffxiv #ser aymeric #wol #ao3 #ffn.net #wattpad

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